Five Hours
by roguewriter729
Summary: When Detective Ryan is abducted, it becomes a race against the clock to find him.


Well, this is my first foray into the world of Castle. Of course, none of the characters belong to me with the exception of the baddie. While I love the character of Castle, I've become quite fond of Detective Ryan. So, hope you all enjoy! 

Detective Kevin Ryan and Richard Castle made an unlikely pair as they strode in companionable silence away from the din of the bar that evening. Since Ryan's fiance was out of town visiting her mother and Esposito was "otherwise occupied," Castle had asked the detective to join him for a round of drinks. While the offer had admittedly taken Ryan by surprise, he actually welcomed the chance to get to know the writer a little bit better.

"You know, Castle, I think this is our first date," Ryan joked, breaking the silence.

"And you were a perfect gentleman," Castle replied with an easy smile.

"I'll be sure and pass that along to Jenny," Ryan said with mock seriousness.

"Speaking of which, how are the wedding plans going?" queried Castle. "I know I'm not the best person to give you marriage advice, but I do have an impeccable sense of style."

Ryan laughed. "Well, I'm really leaving most of it up to Je. . ." His voice trailed off as five men seemed to appear from nowhere and surround them. Ryan felt Castle tense beside him, and he instinctively reached for his weapon, which was sitting in his bureau at home.

'Damnit, what the hell is wrong with me?' Ryan chastised himself mentally. He should have noticed something was amiss, especially since the backstreet they were on was deserted.

Before either of them could react, one of the men moved forward and brought something down on Castle's head. He dropped like a sack of stones to the pavement, whipping Ryan into action. The detective moved quickly into the man closest to him, ramming an elbow into his gut and backhanding him in the face. As the man went down, Ryan moved swiftly toward his next target. Unfortunately, a third man came up behind him unnoticed, and he suddenly felt an explosion of pain behind his eyes. 'Why don't they have guns?' was his last thought before consciousness fled.

* * *

Javier Esposito woke up around midnight to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Rolling out of Lanie's embrace, he groggily felt around on his nightstand until he found it.

"Esposito," he mumbled.

The sound of Kate Beckett's brusque voice brought him fully awake. "Esposito, it's Beckett. Castle and Ryan were attacked a couple of hours ago. Castle is alright, but they took Ryan. I need you to get down to the precinct ASAP."

"On my way." Esposito's heart dropped into his stomach as he hung up and woke Lanie. He quickly explained what little he knew while dressing.

"I'm going in with you," said Lanie, hopping up and proceeding to get dressed herself.

"No, there's no need for you. . ." Esposito started, but was silenced with a look.

"Javier Esposito, I dare you to finish that sentence."

"I was just going to say, there's no need for you to drive," he finished weakly, grabbing the keys off the dresser.

"That's what I thought," replied Lanie. "Let's go."

* * *

Esposito thought the drive to the precinct had been bad. His mind kept racing through every possible scenario, and none of them ended well. The thought of what Ryan could be enduring made him want to tear the streets apart to find his partner. The other possibility - well, that wasn't an option. He was getting his partner and best friend back, period.

However, the drive was nothing compared to the silence and tension that greeted he and Lanie as they entered the building. It was always worse when it was one of their own. Beckett was striding back and forth in front of their work area, and Castle was perched on the edge of her desk with a bag of ice pressed firmly against the back of his head. He looked downright miserable.

"What the hell happened?" Esposito demanded, not caring how he sounded. He felt Lanie's hand brush against his shoulder.

Since Castle seemed lost in his own thoughts, Beckett answered. "Castle and Ryan were leaving a bar downtown when they were jumped by five guys wearing hoods. One of them clocked Castle, and that's all he remembers. When he came to an hour later, there was no sign of Ryan or the attackers. Based on the lack of physical evidence, it appears they took Ryan with them."

"Five guys?" Esposito said incredulously. "That's a lot of manpower for one cop and - no offense, Castle - a writer."

"No offense taken," said Castle wearily.

Beckett looked at him with concern. "Castle, you should go home and rest."

Castle's eyes hardened. "I'm not going anywhere until we find him. I might remember something that can help, so you need me."

Beckett sighed softly. "Fine. But I need you to stop beating yourself up. There was nothing you could do."

"She's right," said Esposito, startling everyone. "Look, bro, you were outnumbered and caught off guard. You're lucky to be alive."

Castle didn't reply, but his posture did straighten a bit and some of the haunted look left his eyes.

"Well, I'm going to check on some things downstairs. I'll leave you guys to it," said Lanie, giving Esposito a meaningful look as she headed off.

Esposito watched her leave, grateful for the support. As soon as she was out of sight, Beckett's sharp voice brought him to attention. "OK, we have a missing detective to find. Let's start going over the facts."

* * *

The first sensation that hit Detective Ryan when he woke up was dizziness. He squeezed his eyes shut while it passed, then slowly opened them again. The back of his head was throbbing, but no other pain assaulted his senses.

'Well, that's a plus,' he thought grimly.

Taking stock, he noted that he was tied to a chair in the middle of a large, abandoned room. The lack of light prevented him from making out any other details.

As if in answer to his thoughts, a door at the end of the room suddenly opened, letting in light from beyond. Squinting and trying to adjust to the increased throbbing in his head, Ryan attempted to take in any details he could. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see. It looked like he was in the middle of an old warehouse.

A figure emerged from the doorway and flipped a switch on the wall, illuminating the entire room with a dim glow. As he approached, Ryan noticed that he was carrying a small case in one hand and a camera in the other.

'Oh, this is getting better by the minute,' he thought with apprehension, shifting slightly in the chair in a vain attempt to loosen his bonds.

"Hello there," came a man's voice as the figure finally stopped in front of him. Peering through the gloom, Ryan could see that the man was average height and weight with no distinctive features. He didn't recognize him, but it was clear that the man knew him.

"What do you want with me?" Ryan asked, cutting out the small talk. He wasn't in the mood to play games, all things considered.

"So impatient. All in good time, detective," the man responded, smiling vaguely. "For now, though, I have a little gift for your friends."

Ryan felt dread welling up inside of him. He quickly tamped it down. As a cop, he knew that panic was one of your worst enemies.

The man reached into the case he was carrying and pulled out a syringe. He tapped the end a few times to remove any bubbles, then moved toward Ryan's left arm.

As Ryan began to struggle, the man suddenly stopped, looking thoughtful.

"How rude of me. You at least deserve to know what is going to happen to you. Very well. I am going to give you a shot that will make you feel rather unpleasant. Never fear, though, it won't kill you. No, I need you alive to share in your friends' pain, when the time comes," he said solemnly.

"What the hell. . ." was all Ryan managed to get out before the needle found its home in his arm. He bucked against the restraints, but it was no use.

It was then that realization struck him like a hammer blow. 'Oh God,' Ryan thought numbly, 'I'm bait.'

The man smiled at him as he positioned the camera. "I can see the wheels turning in your head, detective. Yes, you are bait. Not only will I have the pleasure of watching you die, but I will see all of your cohorts go down with you. Now, smile for the camera. I want a nice before shot so your friends know you are still alive."

Ryan flinched as the flash caught him off guard. He watched the man's figure retreating with renewed dread. He had to figure out a way to warn his partners before it was too late.

* * *

Detective Kate Beckett stared at her computer screen. She was finding it hard to look away from Detective Ryan's face. 'At least he's alive,' she thought with some relief. She refused to add the 'for now' to that thought.

The email had come in ten minutes ago. The message below the picture of her missing detective was quite clear. He had been injected with a toxin and only had five hours to live. If they didn't find him in time to identify the poison, he was dead.

She, Esposito and Castle were now crowded around her terminal, trying to ascertain where exactly Ryan was being held. The computer guys were unable to trace where the email came from, but they were still hoping to garner a clue from the background.

"It's just too dark," Castle said for the third time.

"He's right," Esposito said, running a hand over his face. He had moved from fear to sadness to raw anger to numbness over the last hour. At this point, just seeing Ryan's face was enough to nearly break his fragile control on his emotions. Usually, it was Ryan who saw through him and knew just what to say in bad situations. 'I never really knew how much I rely you until now, bro,' he thought at his absent partner. 'You better come back alive, because I don't think I will ever be able to let another partner in again.'

Beckett broke through Esposito's thoughts. "We've stared at this enough for now. Esposito, I want you to canvas the neighborhood again for any possible witnesses. Castle, you and I are going to go back through our old cases to see who could have a personal grudge against Ryan. Let's move!"

* * *

Ryan moved his aching limbs as far as the restraints would let him. He had been trying for over an hour to reach the small knife he kept concealed in his belt. The drug he had been given was starting to do its work, though. He felt increasingly sluggish and feverish. His vision kept blurring, and the nausea was becoming persistent. It was only a matter of time before the man returned.

'Got it!' he thought triumphantly as the small blade finally fell into his hand. A surge of joy washed away some of the aches in his body. Moving as quickly as he could, Ryan maneuvered the blade out and began sawing awkwardly at the rope. A few agonizing minutes later, his now blood-slicked hands popped free. He quickly undid the bindings on his feet and lurched toward the door.

Ryan was unprepared for the light that suddenly assaulted him as the man flung open the door. He had a gun pointed at the detective and was shaking his head, a disappointed look flitting across his features. Ryan felt all of his hope sink. He stood shakily, preparing to fight one last time.

"Going somewhere? Shame, shame," the man said with mock sadness. "Well, it looks like I'm going to have to take more drastic measures to keep you in place." With a sigh, he aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Beckett felt a sense of deja vu as she stared at the second picture. Two hours had elapsed since the last one was sent, and they were no closer to finding Ryan. Esposito's return to the crime scene had been futile. She and Castle had narrowed down the list of potential suspects, but there were too many to find before their timetable ran out.

In this picture, Ryan looked exponentially worse. He was clearly feverish, sweat beaded on his forehead and trickling down his hairline. His open eye looked glassy, and he appeared to be in pain. The part that struck them all as odd, though, was the fact that one of his eyes was closed.

"There's no clear bruising," Castle pointed out, "so he wasn't hit. Maybe the camera just caught him off guard?"

"No, he's staring right at it," Beckett said, tracing her finger over the picture. "It looks purposeful, like he's trying to tell us something."

Esposito remained silent. He had been staring off into space, muttering to himself. Castle nudged Beckett again and looked meaningfully at Esposito, but she shook her head. 'Let him be, I'll intervene in a little while if necessary,' her eyes said.

Shrugging, Castle turned back to the picture. "Well, maybe it's a code of some sort. He has one eye closed - what begins with the letter o? Orange, obvious, overpowered - ooh, maybe he's trying to tell us the guy will overpower us?"

Beckett turned and stared at him, one eyebrow raised incredulously.

"OK, maybe not," Castle said, waving his hands in surrender. "How about numbers? There are three letters in the word one - maybe he's in a building on 3rd Street?"

"It's a trap!" Esposito suddenly yelled, jumping up and startling Beckett and Castle.

"Um, what? How the hell did you come up with that?" Beckett asked, bewildered.

Esposito was too excited to notice their skepticism. "Look, one night awhile back, Kev and I went out drinking. We had a few too many - OK, a lot too many - and started making up all of these crazy ways to signal one another in case of trouble. He had the idea to use winking - one wink meant a trap, two winks meant all clear. At the time, we thought it was hysterical. But, he must have remembered it and figured it was his only way to keep us from charging in when we find him!"

Castle was shaking his head. "One wink for a trap? Wouldn't two winks for a trap make more sense? Two, trap - get it?"

"Castle, really?" Beckett said.

"I'm just saying. Oh, nevermind." Castle sighed as two sets of raised eyebrows turned in his direction.

"OK, so if it's a trap, then we've been looking at this wrong," Beckett said, jumping to her feet to pace the room. "Clearly, whoever took Ryan is after all of us. It's possible he's faking the whole poisoning thing too just to lure us out within a specific time frame. But why?"

"Maybe," said Castle, picking up her train of thought, "he planted a bomb. You know, something he needs to remote detonate. By giving us a timetable, he knows when to get out and set the timer to go off. Even if we don't show, he can always kill Ryan and come for us later."

Esposito looked troubled. "So either way, we need to find Ryan within the next two and a half hours."

"Yes, but at least we have a better idea where to focus our search," Beckett responded, trying not to let discouragement get the best of her. "Castle, grab all of the cases we sorted that included full team busts. We'll narrow down the suspect list from there. It shouldn't be too many, considering a lot of these guys should still be locked up."

As Castle hurried off to get the files, Esposito and Beckett exchanged glances. They were both thinking the same thing, and they knew it - the odds weren't good, but by hell or high water, they were getting Ryan back.

* * *

Ryan struggled to stay awake. He was once again tied to the chair, only now he had a bullet hole in his thigh that was slowly leaking blood. The man had been quick to assure him that it wasn't fatal and was merely to "slow him down" should he think about escaping again. Apparently, he was meant to witness the looks on his friends' faces right before the trap was sprung, and they all died.

The combination of the drug and the blood loss was taking its toll, no matter how non-lethal. He could hardly keep his eyes open. His body was wracked with chills and aches. He had already vomited several times, and the smell wasn't helping matters, nor was the fiery pain shooting up from his leg every time he moved. As he drifted toward blissful unconsciousness again, he fervently hoped Esposito got his message.

* * *

Esposito tapped one hand impatiently on the seat next to him as Beckett drove like a woman possessed toward the warehouse. They still had an hour to go until the deadline, but every second counted, especially if they wanted to catch this guy before he fled. Castle was sitting in the passenger seat next to Beckett, drumming his hands anxiously on the dashboard. The chief was sending backup at a discreet distance so as not to spook their target.

In the end, they had narrowed it down to two potential suspects. The cases involving all four detectives weren't as plentiful since they usually split up the workload. And, as Beckett had pointed out, most of the criminals they had brought in were still in jail.

One of the two suspects, as it turned out, had an ironclad alibi. They were left with James Reynolds, one half of the infamous Gentlemen Killers. Once Castle discovered that he had been a chemistry major, things began to fall into place. James and Josh Reynolds were identical twins who lured their female victims by pretending to be rich, cultured men of leisure. Unfortunately, when they were caught, most of the evidence pointed toward Josh as being the perpetrator of the crimes. His brother James was therefore given a reduced sentence. Josh had been killed a year ago in a gang war within the prison, and his brother was paroled several weeks ago. A guard at the prison told the detectives that James always spoke reverently about his brother and became despondent when he was killed.

"So, this guy blames us for what happened to his brother," Beckett said as she drove. "Hopefully, we'll get there before he has time to arm the bomb."

As she pulled to a stop outside of the warehouse, both detectives and Castle jumped out and headed toward the building. The twins' father had owned the warehouse and left it to them in his will. Esposito had come across that piece of information while doing a background check. According to records, the building had been vacant for years.

Beckett and Esposito drew their weapons and entered through the side entrance cautiously. Castle trailed behind, looking around apprehensively. 'I really need a weapon,' he thought. 'Even a can of mace or a stun gun would be an improvement!'

Rounding a corner, Beckett spotted their suspect hunched over something on a table in a small alcove.

"Freeze, police! Stop what you are doing and turn around slowly, hands where I can see them!"

As James Reynolds turned, Castle's guts turned to water. He was holding a remote detonator in his hand. The bomb behind him glowed ominously.

Reynolds smiled. "Well, not exactly the ending I had in mind, but at least I'll join my brother."

As his finger slid to the trigger, Beckett and Esposito fired simultaneously. Castle flinched, but fortunately no explosion was forthcoming. Reynolds fell backward, the smile still on his face as he hit the ground. Beckett moved forward and kicked the device out of his lifeless hand. She knelt and felt for a pulse, then shook her head.

"Let's find Ryan," said Beckett, moving toward the door to the main room.

Esposito was already ahead of her. Ignoring protocol, he yanked the door open and rushed through. In the middle of the empty room, tied to a chair, was his partner. Ryan's head was bowed, and he wasn't moving. 'God no, please be alive!' Esposito chanted to himself as he ran over. He could feel Beckett and Castle behind him.

As he reached his partner, Esposito saw signs of movement. His sigh of relief caught in his throat, however, as he took in his partner's condition. Detective Ryan stared up at him through bleary eyes. He looked ill, dark circles under his eyes and sweat running down his flushed face. It was clear from the smell in the room that he had vomited several times. To make matters worse, he had a gunshot in his right thigh that was slowly leaking blood onto the floor.

"Hey, I was wondering when you guys were going to show up," joked Ryan weakly.

Esposito moved to untie him from the chair, waves of relief coursing through him. "You know traffic this time of night is a killer, bro," he joked back.

"I'm calling in back-up and an ambulance," Beckett said, moving off a couple of paces. Castle hung back to help Esposito. Together, they finished untying Ryan from the chair and slowly lowered him onto the floor. Castle took off his jacket and made a pillow out of it to elevate Ryan's leg.

Ryan grimaced at the pain coursing up from his leg as he was shifted to the ground. His whole body still ached and his head was pounding relentlessly. He couldn't help the small gasp that escaped his lips when Castle moved the jacket under his leg.

"Blood flow seems to be almost stopped," Esposito murmured as he inspected the wound. He hated seeing his partner in pain. "Kev, what did he inject you with?" he asked suddenly. He could see Ryan was ill, but they had never determined if the so-called toxin was a hoax or not.

"He said it wouldn't kill me, just make me look sick enough to fool you," Ryan responded shakily. Both Esposito and Castle blew out sighs of relief.

Ryan felt the world start to spin again and squeezed his eyes shut against the sensation. He was worn out and on the verge of losing consciousness. He felt a sudden pressure on his hand and realized someone had grabbed it for support. He instinctively knew it was Esposito, and he was safe. Content, he let himself drift off.

"Ambulance will be here soon," Beckett said as she approached. Castle stood to join her, and Esposito just nodded, never taking his eyes off of his partner and friend.

* * *

One week later, Detective Ryan pushed his way through the precinct doors. With the aid of a pair of crutches, he made his way slowly to his desk. He was glad to be back, despite being stuck on desk duty for awhile.

The drug Reynolds had injected him with turned out to be short-lived. Esposito had ridden with him to the hospital, and after being held overnight, he was feeling much better in the morning. The blood loss from his leg made him weak and tired, but the shot had gone clean through, and he required no surgery.

"Hey, he's back!" Castle said as Ryan eased himself into his chair. Beckett looked up from her computer and gave him a warm smile.

"Yup, and not a moment too soon," replied Esposito with a huge grin. "I was getting bored with no one to torment."

"Ha ha," said Ryan, easing immediately back into their usual banter. Jenny had flown home immediately after hearing he was in the hospital, but Esposito continued to call or visit every day. He was more grateful to his best friend than he could put into words.

Moving a little too quickly toward his case files, Ryan winced as a bolt of pain shot through his healing wound.

"You feeling OK?" Esposito asked quietly, his eyes full of concern. "Maybe you should have taken more time off."

"Nah, I'm good," replied Ryan. "Just moved too fast."

Esposito nodded, apparently satisfied for the moment, and continued with his own work.

Things would get back to normal slowly, Ryan knew. But for now, it was good to know his partner had his back.


End file.
